A Finite Infinity
by ian7285
Summary: This is the introduction to the universe I will be using for any Bioshock Infinite stories that I pen on this site. One-shot, with other stories yet to come.


**Hello! This is the introduction to the universe I will be using for any Bioshock Infinite stories. The following is a dialogue between the Luteces, establishing the rules of the universe. After this one-shot, any number of shorter or longer stories with Booker and Anna/Elizabeth can be written. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

"Is this it?"

"Is it what?"

"Not what. It."

"You're playing with your pronouns again, brother."

The Lutece twins sat at a small table outside the café. Robert sipped on a small cup of coffee. "Are they the last pair?"

"Do you mean each of them or the combination?"

"Either. And both."

"No." Rosalind was busy scribbling on a napkin.

"No to which?"

"Either. And both."

"They must be. They will be." Robert took a victorious drink from his coffee.

"There are infinite pairings, brother. There cannot be a 'last pair' if there is no first."

"Do they lie in the middle, then?"

Rosalind stopped writing and pondered. "I suppose it's all middles."

"There can't a middle without a beginning or end. If they are all middles, then it stands to reason there must be a first and last."

"I think you fail to grasp the concept of infinity."

"Do you fail to grasp the concept?"

"No."

"Then I cannot."

"I suppose you can't." Rosalind glanced around. "Where is our server?"

"She'll be here. She has been here."

"Yes, but she's not here now."

"We could go to when she is."

"We already have." Rosalind glanced up at the waitress, who was now standing at her side. " _Le saumon, s'il vous plaît_."

"Fish on a sandwich? I can't imagine that would be appealing in any world."

"I wonder what variable caused you to have such a regrettable palate."

"Perhaps you had a more traumatic childhood."

Rosalind raised an eyebrow. "Cheeky."

"So do you think they're the last pair?"

"Infinity implies a lack of finality."

"Infinity is an effective theory, sister. We simply cannot define the upper bound of the universes available to us."

"We have all of them available to us."

Robert leaned forward. "I don't believe that's true. We've run out of variables. There are worlds where we never commune, or become scientists, or are dead, or are never born, or are unintelligent, or are never brought to Columbia, or never have a Columbia, or are – ."

"Brevity, brother. I know what you're – "

"Thinking. Yes, I'd forgotten. I will forget."

Rosalind picked up her pen again and began drawing on the tablecloth. "Suppose then that we have seen all the world in which we can set events in motion. Suppose the girl has done the same in all worlds she can access. In that case, infinity could still exist as a limitless bound…"

"But our perception of it has become finite."

"Perception without comprehension – "

"Is dangerous. I'm aware. Which is why we must understand it." Robert pulled his own pen from his jacket and began adding to his other version's sketches and formulas.

"Our idea of infinity is in fact a seemingly limitless quantity based on the parameters our understanding of science has established."

"Then perhaps it is our understanding that is the problem, and not the perception."

Rosalind's face lit up with a new conception. "If our perception is accurate, then the science is wrong. We're simply using – "

"A framework that maintains validity for the understanding and not the perception."

"Incredible."

Robert grinned. "So we can agree on the finite properties of the limitless, yes?"

"Our infinity is simply smaller than we imagined. For all intents and purposes, we've reached a threshold of navigable universes."

"Then are they the last pair?" Robert was sure he'd made his point.

Rosalind frowned. "No. They belong in the middle."

"What are we left with?"

"In layman's terms? We're maintaining a finite set of universes, none of which have the capacity to contain a Comstock. None of which, therefore, contain an Elizabeth Comstock – "

"Or an abducted Anna DeWitt – "

"With the ability to manipulate time and space." Rosalind set her pen down like a lawyer finishing her closing argument.

"But what of the universe where DeWitt rescued the girl? What of the Elizabeth – "

"Or Anna – "

"Who killed DeWitt and Comstock?"

Rosalind picked the pen up again and twirled it in her hand. "She couldn't kill DeWitt if Comstock never took her or unlocked her abilities."

"She's a paradox."

"Does that make us paradoxes as well?"

Robert began using his own pen as a stir stick in his coffee. "I think the whole universe – or more accurately – the two universes you and I came from, must be paradoxes without which – "

"None of this would be possible."

"So," Robert mused. "My world contained myself, Booker Prime, and Anna Prime."

"And mine contained myself, Comstock Prime, and Anna DeWitt's ascension to Elizabeth Prime."

"And any of the remaining worlds that include Booker DeWitt – "

"Must contain a DeWitt who never attended the baptism at all."

Robert took another sip of coffee, oblivious to the misused pen stabbing his cheek. "The third variable."

"And of those that do have a DeWitt may or may not have an Anna DeWitt."

"Any of those worlds that do have an Anna DeWitt would never become Elizabeth."

"That is a much more finite number." Rosalind paused, thinking of the implications.

"Four hundred and thirty seven."

"You did the math?"

"I did a census."

Rosalind ran the numbers in her head again. "Four hundred and thirty seven, plus an Elizabeth Prime existing as a paradox."

"And us," the male Lutece added.

"And us."

There was a flicker that no one noticed, and the table was vacant once again. The waitress returned with a plate but seemed neither confused nor comprehending of the empty table's meaning. She set the plate down simply and walked back to the café's main door. She held it open for a broad-shouldered man with the beginnings of gray in his hair. He walked out of the restaurant arm in arm with a young woman who smiled brightly at him. Any passerby, had they wanted to, would have counted ten fingers on the woman's hands. She said something to her father, and the two started down the street toward a bookstore on the river.


End file.
